Perfection
by Ethan-Silas
Summary: Sev and Lily have been the best of friends for eight long years... And now, in their favorite spot, could they actually become something more?


Sev was watching Lily, as usual. She could feel his small, pretty, onyx eyes on her, could picture the porcelain skin glittering, the point of his nose shining in the bright summer light. His long hair looked good today, though still a tad dirty, and hung as happily as it always did around Lily, as if it perked up in her presence. It was messy and unruly; she'd been playing with it, and when in private, Sev didn't bother to smooth it back down to its usual sheen of grease.  
He wore an oversized black sweater, the stitching so old and stretched out that pale skin shone through in some places, not to mention the places so worn the fabric had given way to holes. His jeans, too tight on him, showed his long, thin legs. He was relatively cute, if you had a taste for skinny, awkward, nerdy boys- and, as it just so happened, Lily Evans did.  
She turned to face him. They were in the wood-like section of the park, their favorite cluster of trees. It was bright and grassy, wildflowers overwhelming it in the best way, and they were by Lily's favorite tree; the broken one. For as long as Lily could remember, there had been a giant part falling off, while the other half grew on. The fallen part was broken, and smelled of decaying tree- something the ginger had always adored- and just so happened to be in the darkest part of the entire cluster. The living part, however, was very tall and bright, and always seemed to be illuminated, even at dusk. To Lily, it symbolized her and Sev- he, the pretty, dark, broken branch, and she, the tall, bright, living branch that held the former up.  
She sat on the broken branch, near the bottom, and Sev was sitting cross-legged on the ground, looking up at her. Lily reclined, watching Sev watch her. She smiled brightly, and he nearly beamed in return.  
He had one dimple in his left cheek. His eyebrows were bushy, and his upper lip held the brushings of a mustache. His eyes twinkled colorlessly. Lily sighed contently.  
Snape was absorbing her, too. She had long, gorgeous, flowing red hair, the brightest shade, and if he hadn't known it to be true, he would have doubted its legitimacy. Her skin was lighter than his, but brighter, and she nearly shone like a light. Her lashes were long and crimson, her eyes the exact opposite color; brilliant green, like thousands of emeralds shining. They reflected light so easily, while Snape's only ate color up. She was a kaleidescope, and he was a vaccum.  
She had bones that, to anyone else, would make her look mediocre to mildly pretty, but to Sev, Lily Jeanette Evans was the most gorgeous, flawless person to have ever existed in the entirety of the history of womankind. She had a long, silken neck, something that, for some reason, the fifteen year old often found himself dreaming about. She was nearly ghostly thin, with boney shoulders and a collarbone that poked up and out, and she wore a tan sweater over a pink cami, a jean skirt below and tights under those. She wore pink leg warmers and old, grey sneaks.  
Sev's hand found Lily's, and their fingers entertwined. Lily looked up, away from Sev, her head resting against the bark of the dead tree, her breathtaking eyes closing. She had a peaceful, serene expression, her cute nose pointing a bit up. As usual, it took Sev everything he had in him not to lean forward and kiss her beautiful, soft lips.  
Funnily enough, Lily was thinking about the same thing. She'd always loved Sev, and she always would, but for the past two years her feelings had been... Growing. Unfortunately, so had his dealings with the likes of Avery and Mulciber, so she'd kept them a secret... If he really wanted her, really cared for her, he would choose her over them.  
She didn't know exactly how she felt about him. Whenever he hugged her, a chill rushed through her, pleasant and exhilerating. Whenever he kissed her cheek, or temple, or hand, the nerves in her stomach did a dance she'd never felt before, and when his eyes met hers afterwards... She melted against him always, clinging to him. She knew she probably touched him too much- it was definitely indecent- but she didn't care; he was her Sev, and his cool skin felt lovely against her. Lily pulled him up unexpectedly, and he got to his feet, thighs brushing the log beneath her.  
They met eyes, and Sev looked confused. After a long moment in which Lily mentally debated without actual words, she pulled him down until their faces were close and prayed he'd get the message.  
Sev felt his upper body yanked towards Lily, but in confusion, he didn't react. His nose was not a centimeter from hers, his lips not an inch from hers. He peered into her eyes to examine what they had to say to him.  
It was the most eloquent gaze he'd ever seen, and he would not see another as loud as that ever again.  
He knew she wanted him to kiss her, and surprise spread through him like the most welcomed disease. After several short moments of bemusement on Sev's part, his scrunched up waves framing her face, he moved his hands to hold both of her cheeks in his and pressed his soft, faintly moist lips to her full, dry ones.  
This was no awkward first kiss. This was fireworks, exactly like what was in the movies, only... Magical. He'd practiced enough on his hand, sometimes even on the mirror (to see how he looked) to know what he was doing. His lips closed around Lily's upper, and she surged against him in response. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, holding his head against hers.  
He stroked her cheekbone with a hooked thumb, and his other hand ran down the length of her lithe, long abdomen, stroking her waist the way he did in his dreams. She mewled beneath him, and glee blossomed in his chest; he had the ability to make Lily Evans, his Lily flower, mewl.  
She repeated the noises quite often, moaning and groaning and whimpering and purring beneath him, and whenever he fluttered his eyes open to look at her, her own were squeezed shut, the middle of her brow pointing up. He drank from her and felt a growing intensity in his chest.  
Eventually, though, around the same time she began squirming, the intensity spread dangerously low until he was as hard as the branch beneath her. The hand on her waist was growing anxious, threatening to move of its own accord to places he knew he could not touch, not during their first kiss, even if she would let him. If he didn't pull away...  
Eventually he found it in him to yank back, and realized his back was sore. He blinking rapidly, breathing heavy, and gazed down at Lily, vision hazy.  
She, too, had clouded vision as she stared at him. That was the best she had ever felt in her entire life... Not that there was much competition.  
She sat up after a moment and felt, with a bit of desperation and exasperation, that she was hot and cool at the same time; her head was hot and punding, her belly, too; the latter was stirring around as if recently awoken, and the former was working triple time to try to keep the gears of her mind functioning under Sev's unbelievably expert mouth, adept tongue, easy kisses, and wondering hand. Her chest was a blossomed flower of cool, like a mint had dissolved in her chest and awoken the coldest, most beautiful and most pure winter, ever. She stared up at him for a long time, wonder, awe, and amazement in her eyes.  
It was perfect. The perfect experience, the perfect kiss, the perfect boy, the perfect couple. What more could one ask for? They beamed at each other for a long, long time, until- eventually- Tunie came looking. Lily's sister always came looking, eventually, and ruined their perfect fun.


End file.
